a second day

It was great to see how to wrap-up a project when so many are at different stages.  I remember in grade school, I was never the one to finish an art project first, and if I was coming in last, I just went after school or brought it home to finish up.  But these days, when so many are busing home or have after school commitments, there is no after school; even in our class.
So, in the beginning of class there was a game plan made up by a show of hands of who had what to finish, a member of each group set up a table to complete that task, and then we all pitched in to clean up.  It was so fast, easy, and efficiently done, and EVERYBODY had completed all six pieces of the assignment by the end of the night.
1.overlapped flat print
2.corregated cardboard print
3.group print- with masterwork example by Nancy Spero
4.oil resistant print
5.sticker print out
6.folio

Given, we had to move at a quick pace, there were reminders of how much time there was left to the end of class, it made the class fly by.  It was also really great that the mood in the class was very "all for one & one for all."  Students really helped one another, a great community was created.

Monsters Out of the Bag

The class started by opening my amygdala and closing my hippocampus and I was left too frozen to begin.  I wish these emotions were somehow part of the lesson, and I could have created a piece that showed how I am still so fragile when it comes to 9/11.  But hearing first of a boy who asks about how could you have known all day and not tell me of my father's passing, brought me back to the same situation eight years ago with my husbands little brother and sister.  I knowingly fed them KFC to make sure they had food in their belly, before the news came home to them.
The story's that Aileen then told of her day on 9/11, receiving information, answering questions, and making sure all the students were safely home by foot, reminded me of being on the train the following weekend in 2001.  A boy about three, stood on the seat in front of me and started talking.  From hello's, the conversation jumped to the way the planes crashed into the buildings.  He would make the sound effects, move is arm and hand as the plane, and kept repeating, pausing to point in the direction of where the buildings used to be.
I asked him if he was ok, and reassured him that it was safe now.  I asked him, gently, if he remembered anything else about that day, and how did that make him feel?  We had a solid conversation about 9/11 and the three year old was still all smiles as we approached our destination.  His father turned and thanked me and asked if I was a teacher.
All this, and the waiting to see what the next target was, and the sky with no planes or sounds of planes, the days following with the smoke rising into the blue sky, and months later when I would still flinch when a plane flew behind buildings, all this is what I was thinking when class began with handing out the cardboard's and scissors.  I know we continue to constantly move on, but I needed a minute to regain myself, or I needed to continue and use the sadness, fear, and memory to drive a creative work.  I needed to harness my feelings into that kind of outlet, because I know I can produce great work when I'm crying whether it's by art or writings.  I'm interested in getting the book Forever After: New York City Teachers on 9/11, and as I've written before, I don't read books regularly.  But it's to learn, from our history, from myself.

11/2 class

"And the wind, whispered, Mar-y"  That's what my sources said about the quick class that Mary conducted after the graphic novels were handed in.  It was a print-making lesson, and conducted in a very relaxed way.  It was meditative.  I guess once in awhile it's nice not to have all the inspiration and thought, that goes into a lesson.  Just the bare minimum, perhaps more like an exercise, instead of a step to a final product.  Of course we always speak of product versus process, but this was like seeing it from inside the box.
I've seen this reaction before, in undergrad.  A drawing teacher, Jo Shane, knew she would be out, and had a substitute.  The change is a spring of refreshment for the students, instead of the regular routine.  It's not that the stand-in is exceptional, just different; and if a student looks at what he/she is doing with a new perspective, and finds insight, the sub is a success! 
I think it's good, and although my hopes are to work in a public school, not allowing for a stranger to come in and take over for a day, I would like to create the same effect by having a friend teach in lieu of me once a year.  It did seem hard though for Jo to not be insulted by our positive feed back about the substitute.  It's always personal.  You hope when students are left alone they continue to carry their class themselves, but maybe you quietly wish that the report back isn't SO positive.

10/19 class

Although I missed this class, from what I understand, it was about sharing our "Alphabet Animation's" in their finished state.  And even though the class had seen them the prior week, and even though some letters were shared between students; with the addition of music, these animated bits took on a personality and a life of their own.  It's interesting to me how much more enjoyable they are to watch, and how the viewer gets a real vibe from just sound.  Jake's fun TV theme song, and Sarah's Richard Pryor vocal really changes how I feel about each 26 letters, as a whole.

The rest of the time the class had together was devoted to working on the graphic novel. With the end pages glued in, over our own decorated, hospital cornered cover; the class was all careful to leave just the right amount of space for the binding.  I over corrected, had to slice mine open, and re-bind the book.  And if that wasn't enough, I over-did the gluing, and it ripped the binding again, so I made one last repair.  I wish we had used either the proper book-making materials, or at least some gauze to try to hold the binding together.  But I didn't freak out, or get terribly mad.

I believe all of us as artists, have patience in these sort of situations.  Now on a computer, I wouldn't think this is necessarily true, because when my computer malfunctions in anyway, it takes great discipline for me not to throw it across the room.  But when you're working on a project that's so meticulous, like the tyvex, or for many many hours, the diligence it takes to finish is from the knowing of what the outcome could be.  I think this is what keeps us engaged and makes us persevere.  And I really think that's what sets us apart, and also is a precious quality of a teacher.

Technology

It scares me too.  I thought we were going to come to one of these classes in the past couple of weeks, and learn in the lab how to animate our letters.  I thought this because we went to the lab before, to look at everyone's blog, and I thought when we wrote out the ditto's on what we know how to do, most needed help in this area, especially me.
I have a design background from undergrad in School of Visual Arts.  My Mac computer is from then, 1997, as are my design programs, and I also don't have a modem.  So, my current work is done on one of the four laptop/computers from my husbands' job, where I manage to pick up how to get done what I need to get done.  This includes using free programs like gimp instead of photoshop.
Therefore, these are programs I learned one can use to animate our alphabets.  Kudos to Claire for thinking of doing it in powerpoint, a program I learned on the fly last year to show my thesis.  You're Brilliant!

• slide share-works with music
• flicker
• slide rule
• iphoto>
• imovie(wholeness & pan)>
• quicktime
• audio hyjack
• preview
• acrobat professional
• rapid share (to do with flicker)
• drop box 

And this is how my skilled peers created their presentations.  Music, I think is absolutely necessary.  It would have made watching most of the same letters go by more individual and unique.  Critique leader, note taker, and time keeper were the jobs distributed again to keep the show moving.   Practice makes perfect, the show was more fluent this week then last, a show conducted by the class.

We finished the class with assembling our books.  The wax resistant designed paper became the cover over two heavy cardboard's, spaced out to allow for a binding of an accordion folded paper.  I wanted to learn more intricate bookbinding techniques four years ago, after a quicky demo in art ed undergrad, so I bought a book and taught myself.  But I'm always open to learn a new or easier way to do things.  I felt it was a nice, social experience.

MY DANCING ALPHABET

Presenting...My 4 Letters! L Q F & U!!!

 

This weeks class made me uneasy as well.  We started with a topic of what does an Art Teacher make of a problem student.  One that is creating drawings of sensitive topics that raise concern.  I felt nervous about this, not that it has happened to me, but that I feel I'm not that qualified to make that call.  I would argue along side Aileen, if I was in such a situation, of weather this is a problem student or a problem paper, or a problem of violence, for an example.  It comes down to where do I feel alarm.  I guess I might have the best insight, but it's trudging on thin ice.  I think about accountability and getting sued; I try to make conscience decisions as to not put myself in these kind of situations.  I'm nervous.

And then as if this is a lighter topic, the conversation segues into abandoned wastelands.  We continue with our graphic novel assignment where we are asked to consider the oil spills, our wrecked economy, and collapsed structures.  What haunts me?  

I'm not sure of a story or characters, but I started to think about images of a broken down Paterson.  I felt the need to take photo's and then do important outlines of environments on transparencies.  I also thought I'd want to use metal in my book somehow as a coldness, or as to keep protected/ keep out.  I went for a drive with my husband, clicking photo's of possible scenes.  I normally have no reason to ride through Paterson, but one time in daylight, I and many other cars, saw a man getting beaten.  This left an imprint on me, and my husband, who has seen plenty in his life, told me that he felt nervous driving around the town.  He asked if I was that naive to think we would be fine because the sun was out.  I felt find until he said that.  I don't like feeling nerved up from residual nerves of someone else.